Under the Blood Moon, the Fitheach Sings
by Ngetal Child
Summary: Sang Sorenson life turns upside down when her family moves to a new village in a time fraught with fear and suspicion. When fingers start pointing, Sang's life may hang in the balance when she is caught in the cross-hairs. Can the mysterious Master Blackbourne and his team of gentlemen really save her from the worst?
1. Chapter 1

**Under the Blood Moon, the Fitheach Sings**

Prologue

The serenity of the inky soup of night was shattered as I leapt into the night. My uncooperative arms screamed with each jarring step, laying useless and unnatural at my sides. With each gasping breath, the air pulling into my burning lungs like hellfire and brimstone, I pushed myself further and further into the blessed cloak of darkness. My feet had long since started bleeding, my legs a bruised and aching mass, but I ran on unmindful of the pain. My long hair, dirty, tangled, and wild, whipped across my face with the bitter breeze of the autumnal wind. had to get away, this was my only chance, the only chance I would ever get.

Glancing up, I frantically scanned the skies, only to see that Rhiannon had heard my plea and hid herself deep within a silvery veil of clouds. In my moment of distraction, a root caught my foot and I was suddenly slamming into the ground with jarring force. An inhuman shriek of pain was wrenched out of my lungs as I landed on my damaged right arm, channels of agony running up and down it with the speed of lightening. I huddled within myself, dazed and shaking from the pain, desperately trying to collect my waning strength to make an attempt to stand and be on my way once more.

A howl in the distance froze my heart, ice dumping directly into my very soul and I was up before I even realized. As the haunting sound died away, I strained my ears desperately, listening, hoping, praying to see if it had been an anomaly, an awakened hound baying at a passing stranger. Dread dropped into the pit of my stomach as the sound picked up once more, now a chorus of dozens more, voices ringing out like the death knell of the damned, the Cwn Annwn coming to drag my soul to hell.

Like a shot, I was off once more, pushing my battered body to the very limits of it endurance. I could not stop, could not, would not be captured again. I absolutely refused, I would not survive it. The forest worked with me, aiding my escape at every step. The ground was littered in soft moss, muting my hurried steps and giving me an extra spring with every galloping step. The reaching branches of trees and bushes seemed to sway out of my path as I passed. The moon's silver face remained hidden deep behind the black sea of night and the animals of the woodland watched my desperate escape with passive eyes, silently willing me on.

My heart was pounding against my thin ribcage, smashing into it so hard I was afraid it was going to burst out of my chest, the sound of my ever approaching doom being washed away in the din the filled my ears. I ached with every passing moment, but fear and desperation pushed me onward, ever onward.

A break in the trees caught my attention and I launched myself forward frantically. I panicked when I realized I had ran head long into a briar patch, its grasping thorns hooking into my torn and filth-stained petticoats, into my hair, into my pale skin. A bay, closer then ever before, sounded through the night and my fear lended inhuman and frenetic energy to my failing limbs. With a violent lurch, unmindful of the damage I was giving to my already injured form, I wrenched myself out of the patch and into the brisk night air.

Realization hit me as I stumbled into the free air of the night and for the first time in days, joy filled my heart. I had made it! Thank Danu, I had made it. Stumbling forward, I basked into the salt drenched breeze that wafted over my wearied face. Tears gathered in my eyes and fell unhindered down my battered and aching cheeks. Walking across the rocky ridge, my staggered, uneven steps echoing in my ears loudly after the silence of the woods. Coming to a halt at the ledge, I surveyed the beauty before me, drinking it in like an addled man from the desert, desperate for water.

The silence of the night, once shattered by the sounds of my ever closer pursuants, was now washed away under the roar of the crashing waves below. The sea was a dancing, frolicking entity at my feet, alive and joyous in its wild freedom. Confident in its own power, it demolished all in its path if it so chose, or provided life, if it so chose. No one would dare tell it how to be, who to be, or judge it for living by its nature. It was loved, it was feared, and by all that was true, it was respected. Entranced, I stood on the edge, soaking up the raw power around me, fortifying my resolve.

"Mistress Sorenson, please, step away from there."

My heart suddenly in my throat, I twirled around to face my unexpected visitor, giving pause when I saw who stood before me. Taking in his solemn face, perfection in every line and angle, my eyes locked with his silver gaze. As if such a meeting at this place and time was clandestine, the moon chose that moment to stop hiding her luminous face and broke through the clouds, bathing us in her pearlescent glow. His eyes seemed to glow with an inhuman light in the moon's delicate rays, ethereal and vibrant. The moon also revealed the growing panic that lay within. Taking pity on the man, one of the few who had given me any kindness in the last few weeks, I addressed his earlier command.

"Master Blackbourne...I cannot do that, kind sir. You know it in your heart that I cannot do that."

"I implore you, Mistress Sorenson, please, step away from the edge. I promised you that I would aide you, that I would save you and I meant it. Please, step to me and we will flee from here. The others are awaiting us just this way hence. We shall leave this place and go somewhere where you can be safe, happy and whole. We have to time yet to fly nigh, I beg of you."

At this impassioned plea, I felt my heart quake in my chest as he reached a strong hand in my direction, his eyes alight with reassurance and passion. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and imagined the beautiful and achingly impossible reality he painted with his musical voice. A world in which I was free to be myself, surrounded by those I had come to love. But as I opened my eyes, fresh tears escaping, I looked up and regarded the celestial body silently, calmly watching the scene play out before her. Through my tears, I noticed the faint ring of red around the moon's full face, cementing my resolve.

"There's blood around the moon...," I whispered to myself quietly.

"Mistress Sorenson...?" Master Blackbourne asked, concern underlying his voice as uncertainty grew on his face.

Turning my attention back to his lovely, perfect face, so alive with emotion at this moment that it broke my heart, I addressed him once more. "You are right, Master Blackbourne, there is yet time to fly nigh."

At my words, relief so strong flew across his features and the start of a heartbreaking smile crossed his face as he took a step toward me. Pain stabbed through my heart at his sudden guileless and entirely too open expression as I took a step back, away from his advance. He froze instantly at my actions, his eyes frantically scanning my face, confusion painting his eyes, realization coming so painfully slow, oh so tortuously slow. At the last second, he launched himself forward, terror and raw pain alighting his fine features as I stepped backwards once more, into the abyss. And with my name torn from his throat, pure agony sounded, I flew.

As the man crashed to his knees in disbelief, his hands grasping nothing but air, under the blood red moon, a raven sang.


	2. Chapter 2

Alrighty my chickadees! I had to do some extensive research for this chapter, thus it's delayed release. To any who knows more on the topics presented in here then I, I apologize in advance of any inaccuracies, I am trying! As always, please let me know your thoughts! Also, because I know there are some words that are unfamiliar, I will provide glossary for you all!

-Olwen: Celtic goddess of the sun

-ague: The Medieval term for Malaria

-megrims: archaic term for migraines

-Danu-Celtic head mother goddess

Under the Blood Moon, the Fitheach Sings-Part 1

_April 1582_

A sharp pinch to my arm pulled me from the land of dreams, Epona's realm and playground, the last glittering rays of happiness sputtering out and slipping from my grasp like water through a sieve. Instantly aware, I rolled onto back to see my elder sister, Marie, standing above me, a sour expression on her pallid face. Her murky brown eyes looked critically down at me, sharp as a knife's edge, her thin lips pinched tightly as if she had just consumed a lemon. Her dark brown hair hung limp and messy around her long face, and down the front of her stained nightshift.

Sitting up swiftly, concerned by the expression of impatience of her face, I opened my mouth to address her but she interrupted me before I had a chance.

"Mother has just awakened and is feeling poorly. She wishes for thee to attend to her that she may find respite from her suffering."

With that, she turned away and made her way down into the main floor of the house. Hopping up, I rushed down the ladder that descended from my small loft space and I forced myself to go straight into my mother's room. A single candle burned on the side table by the small bed, awashing it's lone occupant in pale yellow light. Feeling the chill in the morning air, I knew that the morning sun had yet to rise from it's golden bed, Olwen resting her luminous head for a few moments more.

Walking as silently up to my mother's side, I took in her waxy and gaunt face, her rapid shallow breaths, and the bright scarlet spots that painted the apples of her sunken cheeks with concern. Sweat dotted her face and crown, leaving her mousy brown hair in lanky, stringy curtains about her. She smelled sour, as if she had emptied her gullet once or twice the night before. I made a silent note to check her privy and help her wipe down.

As I had feared, her ague had set upon her once again with a vengeance, leaving her shaking and pale, fever wracking her form aggressively. The last I had seen her the night prior, she had cried off supper, siting a sudden bout of the megrim. I had made her up a tea with the remainder of my herbal potions and had then sent her to bed shortly thereafter. She had worsened in the night and I had not had the time to stock up my wares of the required herbs needed to bring down her fever and alleviate her pain. Her curt voice, harsh and rough in the wee hours of the morning, slashed through my assessment of her current state.

"What art thou doing, standing there like a tottering fool, thy wretched girl-child? My head, it aches and my chest feels as if an ox sits upon it! My body, it burns as if I am doused in flames. Make me up one of thine poultices, quick haste!"

Quaking under the growing ire of my mother, I rushed to explain my lack of action.

"Dearest mother, the tea I had prepared thee was the last of my herbals. I must collect more to help thou gain thy strength," I told her with a slight waiver in my tone.

Watching in trepidation, I observed as the red in her cheeks spread to the whole of her face, her mouth screwing down into a fierce scowl. Before I could comprehend what had happened, my head was forced to the side by a resounding slap across my pale cheeks. The resulting sting brought tears to my eyes, with which I desperately willed away, refusing to cry.

"Thou stupid, pig-headed girl child! How cold hearted thou art, to allow thy mother to suffer so! By the Rood, if thy do not return in haste with my poultices, I shall take the switch to thee, so God mend me! Fly, you wretch, fly nigh!"

At her threat, I leapt to my feet once more and fled the room, her curses following me out as I ran. Rushing to get on my stockings, stays, petticoats, gown, then cape, I struggled to get my long hair, the color of burnished cornsilk, under my cap. Slipping on my soft leather boots, the material well worn and supple, I gathered my basket that hung near the door and rushed out into the cool morning air. After a good five minutes, I allowed myself to slow to a trot, then further still to a brisk walk. Happy to be free from the oppressive air of the house, of the chaffing mantle that was my mother, I listened happily as the world began waking up around me.

Morning birds sang and bickered in the pre-dawn light, flitting this way and that as I walked deeper into the woods behind our house. A herd of red deer passed across my path, taking flight when I stepped on a small branch. Small rabbits grazed in a patch of grasses as I continued my stroll, their small noses quivering almost violently as they noticed my presence. However, they resumed the breaking of their fast as I kept my distance and walked on. Humming lightly to myself, I watched in delight as more creatures awakened from their night slumber. A mother fox and her kits, rolling in the front of their den, a grumpy old badger snuffling in the leaves, a small family of squirrels chittering at one another and dancing across the small branches of the trees above my head. All were so alive and free.

The sights and sounds around me were equal parts as familiar to me as my own hands and entirely strange all at once. I had spent many a morn in woods such as this one, but this woodland was entirely new to me and I reveled in the chance to explore. My father was a successful tradesman and inventor, his work taking him far and wide so that some days, I forgot what his face even looked like. His business had picked up over the last few years and about a month prior, he had abruptly returned to our home in Hadleigh and informed my mother, my sister and I that we were to move to the small town of St. Osyth within the week. He had established a new office in the nearby port town of Brightlingsea and it placed him closer to London, where he traveled extensively.

I remember hearing the resulting fight with a wince. Mother, having just recovered herself from one of her bouts of the ague had accused my father of being a heartless man who wished that she catch her death and waste away to nothing. Father had called mother a sharp-tongued shrew who was to do as he said. The sound of broken pottery and the clatter of the upended table still echoed in my ear. Needless to say, father had gotten his way, as always, and within the week, we were packed and on our way. We had gotten into the village at the dead of night four days past, and I had not yet had a chance to explore or to even meet anyone.

All my life, my mother had warned against the evils of men and how I was always in danger outside the walls of our house. She had detested our neighbors within our last village and if it were not for Sunday service, we would have never been seen outside our cottage. Between my mother's abhorrence and her bouts of illness, I was kept mostly to myself and had become the caregiver for her on more then one occasion. I was never treated poorly at my last home, more like with an ambivalent awareness by the other occupants. I was ignored mostly, all except for one, I thought sadly to myself. Despite the misery of the move and the obvious pressures it had placed upon my mother, it was nice to start again. I felt a burst of excitement at the thought of the coming Sunday, two days hence, for I had always secretly enjoyed belonging somewhere, if only for a small while.

Lost in my thoughts, I had missed Olwen peaking her golden head and sunlight streamed through the above boughs, warming my chilled cheek in the brisk spring air. As I strolled along, I worked hard to familiarize myself with the new territory, all the while searching for the plants and herbs I would need for my mother's medicine. Suddenly, I broke through a particularly stubborn bramble bush into a ring of sunshine, leaving me half blind for a moment. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I let out a small sigh of pleasure. A vast and beautiful meadow stretched before me, a medley of wildflowers and herbs splashed across it's green canvas. The sun's morning rays illuminate everything in it's rose-gelded light and for the first time in over a month, I felt truly at peace.

After I had taken a moment to absorb it all fully, I reminded myself of the nature of my early morning trek into the woods and set myself to task. Searching the bountiful array in front of me, I quickly identified some of the desperately needed herbs and plants I needed to replenish my supplies. I gathered some mint first, to help sweeten my mother's breath after she was sick and to help calm her nerves. Yarrow would help clear out her lungs and work to curb her growing fever. Some lady's mantle would sooth her irritated bowels and allow her to keep her dignity. I also collected some foxglove to strengthen her heart and quicken the blood. The leaves of wild strawberry would help clear out the bad vapors in her throat. Lavender and chamomile would both work to sooth her anxiety and relieve the pain of her head.

Feeling blessed and sending a silent prayer to Danu above for her generous bounty, I searched the large meadow for the last needed ingredient. Catching sight of horehound, an excellent cleanser of the lungs, at the far side of the meadow, I began my trek with a bounce in my step. I had just started picking the leaves, singing softly to myself and basking in the sun's gentle warmth, when a commotion across the field drew my attention. Turning around, I was surprised to see a large, wirey dog the color of wheat shoot out of the woods at a charge, heading straight my way. I only just had time to brace myself before he bowled into me, knocking me flat onto the ground and stealing the air from my lungs.

Fear quickly gave way to relief when I realized he, for it was most assuredly a he, was not out for my throat, but was rather awashing my face in quick, messy laves of his gigantic tongue. Unable to help myself, I started giggling and attempted to push him away, but it was for naught.

"Maximus! Get thy sorry flea-bitten hide off of her and come here!"

I was startled at the unexpected, and very male, voice that broke through the mornings lull. The dog, Maximus, immediately stopped his assault on my face with a whine and rushed back across the way in the direction of the voice. Levering up a bit onto my arms, I was surprised to find myself now in the company of a boy about my age astride a handsome chestnut gelding. Maximus was now sitting obediently at the feet of the magnificent mount, his head hung low in shame and I felt an ounce of pity for the helpless brute. The boy quickly dismounted from his steed, pausing to offer soft words of scolding to the dog and a resounding command to stay, and paced across the distance separating us in long confident strides.

Kneeling at my side, I was immediately struck by the beautiful glow of his emerald eyes, so like my own but so very unique in their own right. I saw shades as rich as the deepest forest glen and as vibrant as new spring growth. His fine dark hair was pulled back in a ribbon the color of pine needles, his lovely pale face alight with concern and kindness.

"Mistress, I am terribly sorry for the assault of this cur of mine. He did not injure thee, I pray?"

Mesmerized by the lovely tone of his voice, so sincere and somber, I could not bring myself to answer him right away. I was too taken aback by his presence and his close proximity was almost too much to bear. In my daze, he had taken the time to assess my crumpled appearance. His eyes locked on a certain point before he quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks ablaze with sudden color. Looking downward to see what had caught his attention, I was suddenly mortified to find that my petticoats had risen up to an indecent length, my pale calves on display. Leaping up to straighten my outer dress, a shock of pain through my right ankle had me suddenly buckling once more. Preparing to strike the ground with a painful collision, I was surprised to feel strong, large hands encircle my waist. Looking up in surprise, I found myself gazing once more into the luminous gems that was my aider. His breath ghosted across my face, cinnamon-sweet and warm. We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity before a small frown pulled at his mouth.

"Mistress, are you able to stand?"

His question, laced with concern, broke through my addled thoughts finally and I tentatively put my weight on my right foot. Once again, agony shot up through my leg and the offending limb crumbled under the strain of supporting my own body. I felt myself once again being supported with his gentle strength and his dark eyebrows pulled down into a frown. Finding my voice, I tremulously answered him, though my actions probably spoke loud enough.

"Good sir, I fear that I cannot. A great pain flares at each step."

"A thousand apologies, Mistress, it appears that my thoughtless command of my wayward hound hath wrought thee a grievous injury."

His frown increased and he appeared to consider something for a brief moment before his lovely face smoothed out once more. Without warning, he lifted me up into his arms, as if I weighed no more then a feather on the wind. Unable to help myself, I uttered a squeak out of fright and clung to his chest at the sudden change in position. Striding back to his now obedient hound and patient gelding, he lifted me upon the back of the great beast. Feeling the power in the twitching muscles at its withers, I frantically searched for a place to stabilize myself. I ended up clawing onto the horn of the fine leather saddle, my limbs shaking at my fright.

"My dear lady, I am Dakota Lee. I live with my mother, Goody Lee and my younger sister at the farm just down the hill yonder. My mother is a healer and crafter of fine remedies. I beg that thou allowest me to bring thee to her that she may help with thy injury incurred under my thoughtless actions. Mistress...?"

Realizing that he was asking my name, I flushed under his intense gaze and softly answered.

"My name is Sang Sorenson. It is a pleasure to meet you Master Lee, despite the circumstances."

Brightening up, Master Dakota Lee flashed me a small smile which lit up his face before sweeping into an elegant and deep bow. Embarrassed at the extravagant show of respect, I felt color spread across my cheeks and down my throat.

"Sorenson...? Ah, you must be of the Sorensons who bought old Goodman Jacobs farm. We had heard that thou hadst arrived earlier this week but had not yet had the opportunity to introduce ourselves. We are thy closest neighbors in these parts. Our lands touch just yon glen. My mother is at this very moment preparing a pie to welcome thy family to this little town of ours. Mistress Sorenson, would thee allow a fool such as myself the chance to restore his lost honor? I assure you, I only have the noblest intentions."

A small giggle erupted out of my throat at the silly little self-deprecating smile that spread across his face and the sincerity behind his earnest face. I had not the heart to tell him that at that very moment, he so closely resembled the lovable beast at his feet, all large, earnest eyes and floppy hair. His head was even cocked to the side, just so! Feeling safe around this handsome boy in a way that surprised even myself, I shyly nodded my consent. The boy, Master Lee, grabbed the reigns to his horse and gently began leading the great beast away from the meadow in the direction of his home, I presumed. We had walked no more then a half dozen paces away before I remembered that I was forgetting something vital, the very reason I had been out in the first place.

"Master Lee, I pray thee, stop!"

Master Lee immediately froze at my loud plea and turned to face me, confusion and concern clear on his open face.

"Master Lee, dost thou see the basket I hath left behind, just there? It is full of important herbals that I am in need of and I cannot forget them. Wouldst thou please recover it?"

Understanding lit up his face and he turned to where I was pointing. Seeing my abandoned basket, it's lid thankfully still latched tightly, he turned to face his happy companion.

"Maximus, retrieve Mistress Sorenson's basket."

Giggling to myself at the ridiculous command, assuming it was a joke made for my expense, I was soon silenced as the large hound loped across the meadow. Without hesitation, he picked up the basket gently in his large maw and lightly made his way back to his master's side. Presenting the acquired item as if it were made of gold rather then willow, the large beast's tail whipped back and forth, a wolfish smile across his happy countenance. Master Lee retrieved the basket with a word of praise to the large hound before offering it up to me. Grasping the thin handle, my face a mask of shock, I cradled the precious load to my chest.

Master Lee gave a rich laugh, deep and melodic, at my stunned expression. Taking the reins once more, he lead the horse once more into the woods.

"Pontifex is extremely intelligent and well trained, Mistress Sorenson, if a little too enthusiastic at times."

"Pontifex?" I questioned, for surely he had called the hound Maximus.

Master Lee's laughter washed over me once more before he answered my query. "The hound's full name is Pontifax Maximus. I shorten it to Maximus often enough. It means -"

"Great pontiff," I cut in, well aware of its meaning. "Why not name him after a famous one, like Augustus Cesar?" I asked in return, smiling at the startled look he sent my way at my clearly unexpected level of knowledge. Flashing me a blinding smile that sent my heart fluttering in my chest like a trapped bird, he shook his head briefly before laughing out right once more.

"Well, that would have been tricky, Mistress Sorenson, as thou art sitting on Augustus Cesar himself."

Realizing he was referring to the beautiful gelding, I found myself giggling in response, laughing at the silliness of it all. As if aware that we were discussing him, Augustus Cesar through back his great golden head, shaking his mane in a dramatic show as he blew loudly. Patting along his strong neck, I soothed the great beast and he settled immediately under my hand.

"Thou hast a gentle touch Mistress Sorenson... I hath naught once seen Cesar calm so swiftly by another's hand before. He hath a haughty nature at times and can be stubborn."

"Thank you, Master Lee, I hath long held a love for the beasts of the land and air. How couldst one not admire the beauty and majesty of such a mighty creature?"

"Aye, how couldst one not?"

Master Lee's last response was said softly with an emotion that I could not place easily. We fell into silence afterward, each lost in our own heads, but the mood was oddly comforting and warm. I soon fell into fretting as my attention was forced back onto my right leg. I could feel heat rising off of my ankle and the pain flared with each pounding beat of my heart's blood. Pushing the pain aside, I wondered at my decision to trust Master Lee and be led to where, I no not. Was I naïve to trust the genial boy with the lovable hound? Was Mr. Lee's intention's honorable as he claimed or had I foolishly given myself to the hands of a madman.

The longer the silence pervaded, the more tense I became, my doubtful mind fighting against my heart which told me Master Lee was sincere and wanted to help. Clenching my basket tighter to my chest, I was reminded of the fact that my mother was as of now awaiting my return and bedridden from fever and pain. If she were well, she would tan my hide for speaking to Master Lee so freely, let alone going off with him to destinations unknown. Cesar sensed my growing unease and fear, his long golden ears flicking back to face me every so often and he began biting at his bit in agitation.

My anxiety and doubt had reached a pinnacle by the time that we moved out of the woods into the soft green fields surrounding a charming farmstead. Two cows lazily grazed in the pasture while sheep dozed in another. Chickens, ducks, and geese scattered before Master Lee's long stride and the aromas of fresh baked bread and apple pie filtered across the yard. My stomach grumbled at the delectable scent as my mouth watered ferociously, reminding me that I had yet to break my fast from the previous night.

A young girl, no older then 12 years of age was working diligently at milking a third cow into a large wooden pail. Strands of her dark hair fell out from under her white cap, hanging in front of her face. At Maximus' enthusiastic and resounding bay, she looked up suddenly and spotted our slow approach. Standing from her small stool, she set the pail to the side and ran a soothing hand along the flank of the dozing hefer. Hurrying across the yard, she met us near the front of the cottage.

"Dakota? What has happened? Is everything alright?"

"Calm thyself Jessica, there was just a little incidence with Maximus on my morning ride. I am-"

"And whom is this lovely lass Dakota? Tell me thou hast not abducted one of the daoine sith?" a new voice inquired, the tone light and underscored with teasing. Flushing darkly at the high flattery, I turned my attention to the lovely lady that was now standing outside the door. I was immediately struck by the resemblance between the three, their relationship to one another announced clear to all who looked upon them. Small lines marked the newcomer's large gemlike eyes, obviously Master Lee's mother, and her mouth was quick to smile. The warmth from her soul emanated out from her personage in such resounding waves that one had to be completely blind and hard-hearted to miss it.

Dakota laughed once more, though he suddenly looked shamefaced and that self deprecating smile made a return. "Mother, may I introduce Mistress Sang Sorenson, of the Sorensons who purchased old Goodman Jacob's farm down the road. Mistress Sorenson, this is my mother, Erica Lee. I came upon her this morning when I was out for my ride, but unfortunately Maximus beat me to her and pushed her down in his exuberance. I fear that she hast injured her right leg and is greatly pained. Wouldst thou please tend to her injury?"

As soon as Goodwife Lee heard her sons explanation, she immediately took charge and instructed Master Lee to bring me into the cottage. Jessica opened the door and at a command from her mother, rushed into a back room. Feeling self conscious under the combined weight of Goodwife and Master Lee's scrutiny, I could not help but fidget in place. At Goodwife Lee's instruction, I lifted my injured leg up for her inspection, entirely conscious of the fact that Master Lee now had a clear view of my exposed leg. As if sensing my distress, Goodwife Lee quickly shooed her son outside, commanding him to take care of "poor Cesar" and to place him in the stables. Master Lee was obviously displeased at the order, but quickly took his leave with a promise to check on her as soon as he was finished.

Relief hit her strongly as soon as the handsome and gracious Master Lee had left the room and I relaxed enough to turn my attention to hmy leg for the first time. My normally slender and bony ankle was now swollen and a deep purple red with a cut along my right calf that was bleeding sluggishly. The heat coming off the injured limb was noticeable, but at Goodwife Lee bent it ever which way and poked and prodded at the injury, I was able to deduce myself that the limb had not gone lame, but rather needed slight rest to recover. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that it took me a second to realize that Goodwife Lee had been calling my name. Judging by her expression, it was not the first time either.

"Oh, I'm sorry Goodwife Lee, I was lost in my thoughts. Please, I pray thee repeat thyself once more."

A kind smile broke out across her face and she took my small hand within her calloused, warm ones. "Not to fret, little dove. And none of this Goodwife nonesense. Do you see a Goodman around these parts? No, I have not been a Goodwife for many a year yet. Thou may call me Mistress Erica, if I may call you Mistress Sang? Does that offend thee?"

"No, of course not Good- I mean Mistress Lee. I couldn't possibly be so forward!"

At my impassioned reply, Mistress Lee threw her head back and laughed in her melodic way, another trait shared with her son, it appeared. "I insist, Mistress Sang. Thy wouldst wound my pride otherwise."

Feeling hesitant, but not wanting to be ungracious to my generous host, I decided to concede to her wishes. "Mistress Erica...wouldst thou please repeat thyself once more?"

At the wide smile thrown in my direction, I knew I had made the right decision and felt a bubble of warmth bloom within my chest. "Well, Mistress Sang, I was merely informing you that thou were most fortunate. The leg is inflamed with injury, but I have a poultice that I will wrap thy ankle in that should take care of the dratted pain. It will take me a few moments more to mix the herbals together, so allow me to assist thee in front of the fire. Spring is well underway, but the air remains chilled and wouldst do thee no favors at this time."

I allowed her to help me hobble my way across the room, where she sat me within a well worn and delicatlly formed rocking chair, the whorls in the wood a thing of beauty. Draping a large blanket around my shoulders, she had a bowl full of spiced porridge thrust within my hands before I could protest. She slipped into the back rooms that Jessica had previously disappeared within and I was left alone within a strange room with a warm bowl set within my hands. The smell of cloves, nutmeg, and roasted hazelnuts filled my nose and my stomach chose that moment to remind me that I was long since overdue for a meal.

Slowly, I brought a spoonful of the cream topped delicacy and blew on it a moment to cool it enough to take a bite. At the explosion of heady flavors within my mouth, my appetite made a full recovery and I was ashamed and more then a little disappointed to find that I had finished the contents in a few short moments.

Setting the bowl on the floor lightly, for lack of a better place to put it, I found myself staring, entranced, into the fireplace. The combination of the soothing heat, pain, and full stomach combined to leave me suddenly drowsy. With each blink of my eyes, I found it more and more difficult to open them once more and before I knew it, I was snuggled deep within the blanket, falling deep within Epona's realm once more...

I was rudely forced back into the realm of the living with a forcible shove forward that had me tumbling harshly onto the cobbled floor of the Lee cottage, entangled in the large blanket. Thankfully I landed on my uninjured leg, though the shock of the landing jarred my bad leg nonetheless. Biting off my gasp of pain, I was beyond shocked to feel someone sit none too gently upon my back, crushing my spasming chest deeper into the unforgiving ground. Panic rushed through me and I began writhing this way and that, desperate for a full breath of air.

"Is this Dakota Lee, master of the dawn, I find dozing hear like a lay-about?"

The new voice, lightly teasing and pleasing to the ears in its dulcet baritone, made me stiffen in surprise. This was not a malicious attack, it appeared, for the new boy obviously knew Master Lee, but I was still struggling to get air within my begging lungs. I renewed my struggle, but all it appeared to accomplish was to amuse my captor, who bounced once, twice on my back, forcing the sir further out of my lungs.

"God's blood, Victor, thou pratling! Get off her this instance!"

At Master Lee's resounding command, infused with surprising authority for one so young, my assailant, Victor, popped up instantly. Gulping in heaving gusts of air, I worked hard to calm my hammering heart. I could hear him sputter and ramble a few disjointed phrases, his confusion obvious. If the whole situation had not been so ridiculous, I would have been tempted to burst out laughing. Instead, I was fighting myself and trying not to burst into tears. It was one thing to be sat on by a dog, but I would never survive the ignominy of being sat on by a boy, a strange boy at that. Finally, he was able to sound out a single utterance, his dawning mortification finally matching my own.

"Her?!"

In the resounding silence that followed, I felt the blanket near my head pull down and the sudden influx of light left me momentarily blinded. Blinking away the small tears that threatened, Master Lee's emerald gaze met my own, his face awash with worry and abashment. Turning my attention to my assailant, I was shocked to meet the wide and horrified eyes of another boy our age. His wavy brown hair hung loose about his trim shoulders and I noted absently that the clothes he wore were of very fine materials. Looking once more into his eyes, I was surprised to see that while they were a rich brown color, the way his emotions flickered within their depths was reminiscent of the fire in the grate to my right. His handsome face was currently turning a lovely shade of crimson that spread down his neck and I suspected into his ears. His mouth opened and closed a half dozen times, as if he couldn't make his mouth work through his surprise. Finally, he uttered out one word which said it all for us both.

"Jesu!"

'Danu!', I thought at the same time, wishing I could suddenly melt into the floor and disappear.


End file.
